Haunted by this bit of Amer­i­cana and its virtues

If you lis­ten to the an­ti­creep­ing-Amer­i­can­i­sa­tion brigade, the adop­tion of Hal­loween here is an­other lurch to­wards us cel­e­brat­ing Thanks­giv­ing and Don­ald Trump’s birth­day.

We never did Hal­loween when I was a kid. But, like a zombie in­va­sion, it has since marched across the land, and this Satur­day night, be­tween 5 and 7, our neigh­bour­hood will be crawl­ing with the liv­ing dead de­mand­ing con­fec­tionery.

The most hor­ri­fy­ing thing: I have to con­cede it’s not all bad. The prospect of in­dulging creepy lit­tle kids flushes out neigh­bours we’d oth­er­wise never have met.

For a grue­some ghoulfest, it’s pretty civilised. House­holds tak­ing part make it clear with dec­o­ra­tions or a lit­tle note on the gate and no one knocks on an un­sure